Turning 18
by Halfspell
Summary: Because they never did anything with Justin's 18th birthday. So I did.


"Justin, wake up." The alarm clock had clicked over and an annoying blaring started in on his nerves, kicking him out of sleep. Happened every god damned morning, five times out of seven, only these days God had devised a new hell for him. It was his own damned fault, though. "Justin, wake the fuck up, Justin!" Granted, yelling wasn't quite so effective with your head under a pillow and he was incredibly tired to boot, but that noise was really pissing him off. "Justin!"

"It's Saturday," came the weak and sleepy protest. "Why did you set the clock for Saturday...?" Brian could hear a hand slapping around on the nightstand, fumbling for the clock and sending things clattering to the floor. God damned kid was whining, but at least the alarm had shut up. "I'm sleepy, we were up late..." He also could hear Justin's voice trailing off, sliding easily back down towards sleep. No fucking way.

"Get the fuck out of my bed, Justin."

"It's Saturday. And Debbie gave me today off. It's my birthday, remember?" Brian could hear him burrowing under the sheets again, mumbling incoherently about weekends and diners and birthdays sore body parts as he went. It was a damned good thing that he was a heartless bastard, Brian reflected, listening to this, because sometimes the kid was too fucking cute to resist.

"Get the fuck out of my bed, Justin, wake the fuck up!" An almighty shove had Justin rolling off the bed with a startled squeak. Most of the sheets went with him, to the floor. Still. Justin was now awake.

Brian was already hard.

"God, what the hell crawled up your ass this morning and died?" the blond mumbled and unwound himself from bedding to totter towards the bathroom. Brian's head emerged; he had to watch. Justin took the freshly fucked look and lifted it to an art form.

And he wondered why he couldn't get rid of the damned kid.

As soon as he heard the shower running, he reached for his slick silver cellphone, buried somewhere under condom wrappers. It had been a good night.

"..Hello?"

"We're going to be late."

"Brian? Is he still asleep? Get him up! He can't be late, it's his own surprise birthday breakfast!"

"He's awake."

"Then get him over here. We're waiting."

"We are going to be late." Each word was emphasized beautifully, just the right touch of sullenness added to each syllable to let Deb know just why they would be late. "About an hour. Maybe more." He hung up before he had to listen to her protest. Honestly. It wasn't every day that a guy's annoying, wouldn't go away, one night stand gone to hell, pain in the fucking ass twink turned legal.

Still, he told himself, there were benifits to having your own live in score. And in picking him to annoy, Justin showed he had good taste. And taste good. Can't forget that. The cellphone was dropped somewhere on the bed and a condom palmed in the seconds it took for bare feet to hit expensive hardwood flooring. Moments later, he was in the bathroom.

The kid was oblivious, shaking his head to get water out of his eyes and blinding reaching for a bottle of shampoo. Brian caught his hand before it touched the bottle and spun him around. Justin had only a moment to look sweet and surprised before Brian, mouth watering in anticipation already, leaned in and just swallowed him in, tongue driving out to suck up any dregs of sweet surprise left in Justin's mouth. Already Justin was responding beautifully, willingly, open mouthed and drinking shower water from Brian's skin like a thirsting man in the desert. Brian spared a moment to thank the teacher for that. Namely, himself.

It occurred to Brian, as Justin made his way down his torso, that he was digging his own grave, teaching Justin how to be his perfect fuck. It also occurred to Brian that this thought needed to occur to him at a time when he had a shot of actually remembering it. A second later, the thought was gone down the drain and he was pulling Justin up for something too brutal to be called a kiss, digging through clean shower gel scent to find him beneathe it all. Tongue fucking, maybe. A second after he found Justin under his own citrus sharp shower gel, Brian had him against water warmed tiles hard enough that Justin lost his breath in a whoosh. Brian knows. He's the one to sucked that breath in. It was turning him on and cranking him up to eleven to have Justin smell like him, wearing his scents like that. He wasn't stupid enough to say it, though. Not even to himself.

Seconds later, he was wrapped and buried to the balls, grinning sharply into Justin's face. He watched, tongue caught between the teeth in his smile, as the boy tried to find himself again, to be an active participant instead of getting lost in the fuck. Brian wouldn't let him.

His pace made the little crease between Justin's brows deepen and Justin's mouth was hanging open, almost like he was in shock, like he couldn't believe this. That stroked Brian's ego nearly as much as his dick and made his grin all the sharper. He began to whisper into Justin's ear, as he hoisted lanky legs higher around his waist. A continuous litany of smut that was almost enough to bet the kid off on its own, all in Brian's lust thickened voice, until he couldn't help himself and took Justin's mouth again.

It wasn't long before sex overrode citrus and Brian was letting Justin slide down the wall to the floor. He settled down next to him, still grinning like the devil himself. Like he fucked the devil himself. An arm pulled Justin in close and held the still panting kid against his chest. Justin was flushed, bruised, abused, sopping wet and looked amazing. Artform, really. "C'mon, I'll take you to brunch. I know a good place downtown." Blue eyes found him and Justin nodded, lips still flushed andparted. "Happy birthday, kid. Move it, you'll dissolve in my shower." Move, or we never will. Fuck the diner. Fuck everyone else. He'll take Justin after brunch. Or he'll take Justin after brunchand then go to the diner. Probably that. He was in the mood to keep this all to himself. At least for a little while.

Justin fit neatly against his side as they were leaving. The phone was ringing, but Brian was ignoring it.

"Aren't you going to answer that?"

"Nah, I'm busy." Brian pulled Justin in a bit tighter as they left the loft and he could almost hear Justin's smile.

Debbie was going to kill him.

But, oddly, it was so worth it.


End file.
